The Chained One Saga
by Robert FitzWilliam
Summary: On the eve of the autumnal equinox an attack on a castle thrusts a lowly priestess into the thick of battle, heresy and a troubling prophecy that threatens her own beliefs and might determine the fate of all creation. Rated T some gore and dark themes.
1. Chapter 1

My first story to have gotten beyond page one is based heavily on a 4e campaign I ran a couple of years ago. I'm hoping to be able to write up the entire campaign but to do so in a proper novel style. I'm hoping these early efforts come across well even though I haven't written seriously before. Let me know what I'm doing wrong - or what you liked - if you have a spare 30 seconds after reading. Hopefully you'll enjoy the story as much as I did running the game. Thanks Robert.

**Chapter 1 - Guarded**

Eleanor de Fresnes breathed out slowly and watched her breath mist in a growing evening chill. It was an hour past sunset and the day of the autumnal equinox was only a few hours away. She shifted slightly and adjusted the shield strap that was slung over her shoulder. She dug out several links from her mail hauberk that had dug their way into her skin and resettled her teardrop shield. She was not much above average height for an Ammand, enjoyed cream and honeycakes too much to be described as thin and had short, dark, curly hair. Her face was plain and she regarded her nose as a little on the large side. She was approaching her thirty fourth winter.

She paced slowly back and forth in front of the castle gateway and peered out across the bailey compound. In front of her was a long single storey building. A sliver of pale light escaped from the shutters of a window in the near section where the lord and lady dwelt. Further along in the Castellian's and Captain's quarters there was only darkness. Beyond it to the west was the Great Hall, where the lord was feasting with the soldiery, along with most of the townsfolk of note, celebrating the imminence of the equinox. She knew that somewhere in the gloom between the two buildings stood Freya, a Geating warrior, a member of a wilderness tribe that had sought refuge in the town some years ago. Freya was tall and athletic, wore her red hair in two long braids and had a fierce countenance and, reputedly, a temper to match.

To Eleanor's left the compound wall – a wooden palisade atop an earthen mound – loomed above her. She scanned quickly along its length as it ran west, past the stable stalls some ten yards away until the wall turned north and it was obscured by the roof of the Great Hall. The timber was in poor condition, some rotting, others had warped. There were gaps you could almost get your head through. Somewhere up there, Bordan was supposed to be watching and patrolling. That she hadn't seen him in a good while caused her to frown momentarily. He was a hunter. Good with a bow she'd been told. He'd seemed sullen when she'd ordered him onto the wall. There were just too many possible reasons for that for her to worry about it beyond her immediate need for him to do as he'd been asked and keep watch faithfully.

She moved on and cast her eyes further across the bailey to the north wall opposite. It, too, was vacant. The raised granary was a few yards away, separated from the lord's lodgings by some five yards. To the northeast, the bunkhouse, where the lord's conroy was billeted, was dark and empty. Beyond that the motte rose up steeply, silhouetted against the cloudy sky. Atop that mound stood a small tower perhaps twenty feet high, no more than half that wide. A ladder, inside the tower, provided access to the rooftop vantage point. She squinted. It didn't help. Then she made out the shape of a head above one of the tower's crenellations. She had bid Gaines, the half elf, watch the eastern approaches to the castle. He had bowed and she'd briefly thought he was mocking her, before he'd spoken in his lilting, melodious voice, "For you, milady, I would guard the whole of Deira should you but command it." She smiled at the memory before it occurred to her that she had been mocked after all.

She turned and looked behind her at where the gatehouse and gateway should have stood, until demolished in early summer. She could not fathom why no work had begun on rebuilding and replacing them – she knew the lord was intent on replacing the aging castle with solid stone defences and this was supposed to be the start. The castle was thirty years old and it showed. Thrown up in haste just after the Ammand conquest of Deira, on the site of an earlier fort, it had originally protected the Ammand nobility, soldiers and settlers from the defeated, but more numerous Dierans. Now, with the passage of time, it was a bulwark in the defence of the town itself against raids from goblinoid tribes. It wasn't much of a castle, old and dilapidated but tonight she had been charged with guarding it. She grasped the polished brass pendant cast in the shape of a shining sun that hung around her neck and offered up a silent prayer to Menauras, asking for his protection upon the castle and the town of Hannon below it.

She walked over to the entrance and nodded as Knut, the half giant looked up as she approached. He towered over her, at least two feet taller than her five and a half foot frame. He casually tossed a great warhammer from hand to hand as if it was no more than a child's toy. His enormous round shield stood propped against the ramparts behind her. He was bald headed, marked with blue tattoos across his face and head that seemed to her like waves upon the sea. He wore heavy leather armour over his upper body and shoulders but no cloak. Tall sea boots rose up almost to his knees before the baggy pleated trousers flared out making him look even larger than he actually was. He alone of the militia, had volunteered for duty that night. She wondered briefly why.

"Priestess." He turned and smiled. "The wind has backed slightly to the southwest and freshened."

She'd not noticed until he mentioned it, but the wind was now stronger. They turned until the wind blew full into their faces. Eleanor looked down the hill, onto the town. She could make out only a few of the buildings in the darkness, her temple and several of the larger merchant houses. Lights shone brightly on the Five Commons where a travelling fayre had pitched up earlier that day, and the wind carried odd strains of music and the occasional sound of laughter as the townsfolk celebrated the equinox and the start of the harvest. In the mid distance, at the foot of the Dorren hill, the mill and its tidal pool were briefly illuminated by the full moon before clouds shrouded it in shadow once more. She could make nothing out on the Firth, not even its outline but the wind carried that salty tang and smell that meant the sea was near.

"It'll rain tonight and I'll wager it'll be blowing a gale before morning." The Goliath added. He spoke the common tongue with the thick guttural accent of a Suthjear, a seafaring race from islands hundreds of leagues to the south. Eleanor frowned. "Nothing to be 'fraid of m'lady. Kind of weather to relish in a fast ship. Reef the sail, set a strong hand on the tiller and let her have her head and she'd race away."

There was a lament in his voice she thought. Why had he sought to reassure her? Had she seemed frightened? She realised he was still talking, mumbling something about a journey he'd once made but she'd heard something else. She quietened him suddenly, with a harsh "Sshhh!"

She peered out and strode briskly down the dirt track. Knut quickly over took her, each step an enormous stride compared with her own short paces. She heard voices, she was sure. The moon was revealed and the hillside was bathed in pale moonlight. Just ahead, maybe thirty yards down the slope, a man pulled a large handcart. A pair of legs was visible between the wheels, revealing another man behind the cart pushing it, whilst a third man grasped one the wheels tightly in his hands, turning it as they struggled uphill.

Eleanor stopped and a wave of relief surged through her as she recognised the man wheeling the cart as Karl, the miller's assistant. The others would be Erik and Otto, the labourers. Knut strode purposefully onward and grasped one of the cart handles and dragged it easily forwards. Eleanor stepped to one side and fell in beside Karl. Why had she felt such relief? Why was she so on edge?

"You're late."

Karl shrugged. He was a tall man, with a heavy frame but not fat. His clothes, including his large white apron were sprinkled heavily with flour and dust. A sheen of sweat stood out on his brow, and his normally tousled hair was swept back and damp. He was breathing heavily, as were the others. She looked briefly at the cart. It was about two thirds full with sacks of flour destined for the castle granary, the first of many such trips now it was harvest season, tribute from the miller and tax from the cottars and villeins. As the cart reached the castle Knut ceased pulling and resumed his vigil at the gateway.

Eleanor followed the cart for a moment watching as it was slowly dragged towards the granary. She looked westwards to the wall. She searched in vain for some sign of Bordan. Anger welled within her and she felt her face flush. Once the deliverymen had gone she resolved to confront him, and began rehearsing her reproach.

The hairs on the back of her neck stood up without warning. A wave of apprehension verging on panic swept over her. It was a sudden realisation of danger, the presence of something unspeakably evil and an implacable belief that something was dreadfully wrong. She turned abruptly, feeling naked and vulnerable with her back to the missing gatehouse. She strode out of the castle her hands moving automatically, one to her mace, the other to the symbol of her god before she noticed that Knut was now stood in the centre of the path, his warhammer raised, poised ready to strike.

"Anything?" Eleanor gasped, her breath ragged.

"I feel it. But I cannot see it."

She peered out but saw only bare hillside. It was early for a goblin raid. They normally waited for the hard work of harvesting to be completed before attempting to steal supplies for winter. There were whispers of civil war, too, but nobody had come out in open rebellion. A pirate raid would hit the town first.

"Go see to the castle. They will not easily get past me." Knut did not even glance back at her.

She turned and ran back into the castle. She twisted her head frantically, scanning left and right. Panic gripped her for a moment. She clutched instinctively at the symbol of Menauras and immediately regained control. The sense of imminent danger remained and was growing more acute with each passing moment. The miller's men were unloading and seemed undisturbed. Gaines was no longer visible in the tower. Seeking out Freya she turned and dashed the few yards along the edge of the building. A sudden movement to her left distracted her for a moment. Bordan, bow in hand, leapt down from the rampart onto the stable roof and then dropped down into the bailey running towards her.

She rounded the building and found herself face to face with Freya, battle ready, her round shield in hand and heavy axe raised, poised to strike. Her eyes were opened wide and her movements were sudden and jerky. Torches beside the doors to the Great Hall illuminated the area dimly, and no-one else was to be seen. A great shout rang out from the hall causing Freya to spin round, but it was immediately followed by laughter and a resounding cheer.

"You feel it too?"

"The spirits sense it. Evil is here!", the younger woman replied, her face grim and determined.

The priestess turned towards Bordan who was rapidly closing the distance between them. "What have you seen? What approaches?" she shouted.

"Nothing! There is nothing outside the wall to the west." Eleanor frowned and opened her mouth to speak. "I swear it!" Bordan reached the two women. Eleanor searched his face. He was perhaps thirty, with dark hair worn long like most of the Deirans. His face was worn, leathery even. He seemed afraid but she saw no sign of untruth.

"Why then did you leave you post? Who stands upon the wall to defend us now?"

A look of frustration, or was it contempt, flashed across his face. She turned away, leaving the question unanswered.

"What now?" She thought.

But then they all heard a loud, clear call away behind the lord's accommodation. Bordan drew forth an arrow and nocked it on his bow in what seemed like the blink of an eye. Eleanor turned and hugging the building moved back towards the gateway. A further shout though, came from the bailey to the east, and its clear distinct sound could only have come from Gaines. She twisted away from the building, gaining space to see him, obscured as he was by the handcart and granary. Finally he emerged from beyond the granary, running, torch in hand levelled in front of him pointing at the near end of the accommodation block. Karl was stood hard by the building, on the eastern side, about where, Eleanor realised, there was a window. Otto and Erik, were slowly backing away, moving edgily towards the gateway. Karl discarded a sack and after glancing at her broke into a run.

Eleanor's feeling of dread intensified. She shouted to Freya and Bordan, "Lady Ellouise! It's Lady Ellouise!"

The wife of the lord, the Vicomte d'Hannon, had retired to her lodgings earlier that evening. She was heavily pregnant with her first child, due any day according to rumour.

Freya responded rapidly. She banged the haft of her axe upon the door. "Lady! Wake up! Unlock the door!"

Bordan moved to a shuttered window and began to try and jemmy it open.

A scream pierced the night, conveying fear and horror.

Eleanor was angry, driven by a fury she had never experienced before and she charged towards the chamber door. Freya stood back and swung her axe, slamming it with all her strength onto the lock. The door shook and chips of wood flew off but the lock held. The Geating cursed and swung again. There was the splintering sound, but the door did not burst open. Eleanor twisted as she barrelled past Freya, turning as she leapt. She hit the door mid leap, slamming into it shoulder on, pulling on her shield strap so the shoulder slung shield contacted the door.

Wood splintered and snapped. The door flew open and the priestess crashed into the dimly lit chamber. Her momentum carried her forward but she could not stay on her feet and landed heavily on the floor a few feet in. Her shoulder ached and the breath knocked out of her. As she tried to stand she looked up. Lady Ellouise was sat up in a bed placed against the far wall. A look a sheer terror was locked upon her face, as her hands gripped the covers tight against her, a white shift covering her modesty. The shutters of the window beside the bed were no longer secure and were slightly ajar. A dying fire in the fireplace near the priestess dimly filled the room with some measure of light. Several feet in front of her was a snake, its head reared back, eyes level with Eleanor's. She blinked. The snake spat. Her eyes stung and she cried out. Her vision was instantly gone.

She heard Freya enter the room. An arrow fizzed past her and there was a thunk as it sunk into wood nearby. "Snakes!" she whispered hoarsely, before she managed to call out louder and clearer. "Snakes! Beware their poisonous spittle! I am blinded!"

Eleanor heard a table and chair being overturned as she fumbled for her flask. She dropped to the floor and rolled over, lying on her back. She willed her eyes open and emptied her flask across her face. Lady Ellouise screamed. Bordan shouted a warning. Furniture was over turned. An axe blow connected with the floor not far away followed by a Geating curse.

The priestess forced herself to stand and staggered towards the bed. Her vision was blurred and hazy, everything was indistinct but she was no longer completely sightless. She clambered onto the bed and reached out to the Lady. "Are you hurt?"

"A small bite, a graze but I feel so …", she paused for a moment, as if drifting off, "weak."

Eleanor place one hand upon the lady's arm and the other upon the symbol around her neck. She concentrated for a moment and called upon Menauras, the lifegiver and protector, and channelled his strength into the poisoned noblewoman. Almost instantly the priestess felt the woman grow stronger. She moved her hand to the woman's belly and pressed hard and was gladdened when the unborn child shifted.

Behind her she heard more blows, one resulting in a heartening squelch followed by a howl of triumph. Gaines head appeared at the window by the bed. He started singing, a chant recalling an ancient battle,

"They stood firm,

Stout-hearted, brave

Warriors in the war!"

Eleanor was heartened and emboldened. Her vision was still blurred but she could make out more and more. She took a firm hold of Lady Ellouise and rolled over dragging the noblewoman with her. She fell off the edge of the bed with a crunch. Lady Ellouise shrieked as she landed on top of her. Eleanor pushed the noblewoman off her, rolling her towards the wall and presenting her shield to any creature hidden under the bed. She wrapped her arms around the Lady and held her down.

There was more clatter behind her, the sound of blows. Gaines dragged himself into the room, continuing his chant. There was a brief pause and then she heard Knut arrive.

Bordan spoke quietly. "Snakes! Fast little buggers." Then, "Freya the bed. On three. Ready?"

Eleanor risked a quick look over her shoulder but couldn't twist enough to see.

"One, two, three!"

The bed was thrown over with a crash. A bow twanged. There was an enormous bang as something hit the floor with great force. Eleanor let go of Lady Ellouise and turned over. Knut's warhammer was embedded in the floor, a headless snake under it. Another was pinned by an arrow. Gaines though was leaning against the wall, a hand over his eyes, as green liquid seeped between his fingers. A small snake seemed to be attached to Freya's leg. Knutt grabbed it by its tail, ignoring his weapon and slammed its head twice into the floor before casting it into the fireplace.

Eleanor sat up. As she did so a small snake emerged, hidden from amongst the bed clothes and darted towards the priestess. Eleanor noticed it too late, her eyes still a little unfocused, and couldn't free her weapon in time. It reared to strike, leaping towards her face. Bordan's arrow took it in the throat, plucking it out of the air and carrying it across the floor, where it thrashed briefly before dying.

Eleanor stood up and freed her mace. She looked around guarding the still prone noblewoman. Knut kicked and stamped upon the bedding whilst Bordan stood nervously bow at the ready. Freya looked a little unsteady on her feet but she, too, stood ready. Gaines was sat back against the wall, blinking rapidly. All were breathing hard.

The priestess turned and knelt. "My lady, are you hurt?"

Lady Ellouise rose slightly. "I am unhurt." She tried to rise, but stumbled and sat down instead. She tried to hold back tears but could not. "I am so sorry." She mumbled.

Eleanor knelt down next to her. "No milady, I am sorry. I should have protected you better." She realised she was still angry, outraged at this attack on a sleeping woman, one about to bring another precious life into the world. "The child ..?" She was unable to finish the sentence, the implications to horrible to contemplate.

"Is fine, I believe. He moves within me still."

A wave of relief engulfed the priestess, and she briefly turned her attention to the others. "Gaines do not fear, your sight will return, if you have water it may help wash the poison from your eyes. Bordan, Knut, Freya – are you injured?"

They all shook their heads.

"A chair for the Lady, then. Bordan, Knut go to the gate – make sure the miller's men are no longer here and that we face no other threat. Freya stand by the door and let no man enter save the Vicomte himself. Gaines please inform our lord of this attack."

Knut passed her a chair and quickly followed Bordan out of the door. Freya moved unsteadily and stood in the doorway, her axe hanging limply in her hand. Gaines stood up rubbing his eyes and slowly picked his way through the wreckage towards the door.

"Gaines." Eleanor spoke, and he turned. She desperately sought the words, what should he say to her liege lord? How should anyone be told of so heinous an assault? He looked at her, then nodded and left.

Eleanor helped Lady Ellouise up and sat her in the chair. She briefly stoked the fire and then set a throw about the noblewoman's shoulders. Lady Ellouise stared into the fire at the charred corpse of a snake being slowly consumed by the flames. The priestess lit a lamp and looked at the chamber with broken chairs, an overturned table, the upside down bed and clothes, plates, and food strewn across the floor. She entertained the thought of tidying it for a moment but despaired.

She lamented her failure. What had she missed? What more could she have done?

The Vicomte d'Hannon strode swiftly into the room. He was a little shorter than most, with close cut dark hair and beardless in the Ammand style. His face was contorted, a mixture of fear and anger. He looked around the room and saw his wife sat slumped by the fire weeping. He glanced up at Eleanor. She bowed and opened her mouth.

"Out!", he barked.

Eleanor was shaken by the order. She hesitated, desperate to speak, to explain.

"OUT!", he bellowed.

Eleanor felt the room reverberate at his command. Lady Ellouise screamed. The priestess stumbled out, brushing the Vicomte as she fled out the doorway. As she tried to pull the splintered door closed behind her, the Vicomte was knelt down beside his wife, her hands grasped in his. The top hinge had fractured, and the door frame had been forced away from the wall from the impact of her charge.

Freya was leant against the wall. She smiled wanly when Eleanor looked up at her, and then abruptly vomited, coughing and retching. Eleanor reached out to her instinctively. Freya spat and cleared her throat and then spat again.

"You were bitten!"

"It is a scratch, a trifle. I am strong and the spirits protect me!" The Geating stiffened and looked upon Eleanor with a measure of defiance, shaking off her touch.

"You have poison flowing through you. I cannot draw it out, but I may be able to strengthen you, perhaps ease your pain." Eleanor studied Freya closely. The venom still affected her, that was clear, but it did not appear to be mortal – and Lady Ellouise had recovered quickly.

"I have never needed such aid before."

There was a howl and the sound of indistinct calls from within the Great Hall. Both women looked over briefly.

"Have you ever been poisoned by a beast before?"

"It was no natural beast – no creature would behave so, attacking wildly, unless cornered and threatened. Its venom is more potent than any snake I have seen before."

The priestess frowned at that news. "Then all the greater reason for accepting my offer of aid. Let my God's boon bolster your protective spirits and together allay this unnatural injury."

Freya looked to speak but suddenly turned and threw up once more. "I think, perhaps, the spirits agree with you. "

Eleanor grasped Menauras's symbol and placed her other palm upon the Geating's shoulder. Once again she called upon Menauras's blessing and felt his strength flow through her. Some colour returned almost at once to the warrior's cheeks and she stood a little taller.

The doors to the Great Hall were flung wide and out tumbled a handful of men, including Gaines. Eleanor recognised the Castellian, the Vicomte's right hand man, and Gerard de Tuam, the captain of the conroy amongst them. They made straight for Eleanor.

"Priestess, report!" The Castellian spoke forcefully, his reputation as a hard taskmaster was well deserved.

"Lord, the castle has been infiltrated, snakes flung into the lord's chamber and the Lady Ellouise attacked. We uncovered them too late, the mill deliverymen, and they have escaped. Bordan and Knut secure the gate. Thanks be to Menauras, we noticed in time, and the attack was foiled. Her Ladyship lives and her unborn child is unharmed."

"I will make an offering to Menauras personally tomorrow, priestess. Were there others involved, are we under attack?"

"I know not, lord. No other enemy could be seen from the walls, and the assassins fled upon discovery."

The Castellian nodded. He turned to the captain who was drinking deeply from a tankard. "Rouse your men from their revelry. Put a full watch upon the wall" He paused briefly, "The least drunk. Another five at the gate – the remainder have them clear their heads they may well be needed before morning."

The captain nodded, threw his tankard away and left with two men Eleanor vaguely recognised as sergeants-at-arms, shouting orders.

He turned to Freya and Gaines. "Stay here – protect the Vicomte.", and then to Eleanor. "With me."

"Lord," she said. "Freya believes the creatures used in the attack are unnatural – she has not encountered beasts as vicious nor creature with venom as powerful. This attack was long in the planning.

They walked swiftly to the gateway. Knut stood guard, but Bordan was absent. He turned at their approach, and bowed slightly. "Lord. Priestess."

"Warrior, what of our enemy?"

"Neither sight nor sound my lord. Bordan seeks trace of their passing a little way below."

The Castellian stepped forward and peered out into the night, but clouds now covered the moon and all he saw was darkness. The heavy sound of men moving within the castle distracted him.

"You say this was the miller's people? Karl, Erik and …" he hesitated.

"Otto I believe, lord," the priestess added. "I do not understand it, but I saw Karl, myself, at the very window of our lord's chamber mere moments before our Lady screamed. All three ran at once upon the sound of that alarm."

"I cannot see the sense in it, either. But we have been attacked, and I must assume the worst. If they can be tracked, I want them followed. If they acted alone I want them hunted down and destroyed. Once the relief arrives, Priestess you and the others on your watch will undertake this task – you are all that I can spare. You have seen them, and you are the only people in the castle not affected by drink." He paused a moment, "and I know you all fight well."

He turned and stared at the vacant gateway and the wall absent the two defensive towers and the lack of walkway above the gates. He muttered to himself almost inaudibly, "Damn the Duke!"

Eleanor was quiet and contemplated the order. She had been in Hannon for nearly two years now, having served Menauras in her homeland before that. She was the least of the priests at the temple in the town, a follower of the God of the sun, of life, worshipped mostly by those working the land - the lowest in the social order. She was not particularly powerful – dealing mostly in minor healing and blessings, and while dedicated to Menauras there was always a feeling that she was holding something back. The temple hierarchy was dominated by worshippers of Kramenus, the God of battle, popular with the Ammand military ruling class. Other Gods had priests at the temple, too, but even the priestess of the Goddess of Knowledge was held in higher regard. She had drawn the watch duty that evening on the instruction of the head of the temple, even despite the fact she had heavy responsibilities the next day with the advent of harvest celebrations.

Now she was faced with a heavier charge. She had helped defend the town against attack, but only by supporting the militia, aiding with prayer and healing. She steeled herself for the task – the prospect of battle, of taking life, in all likelihood having to kill a townsperson, someone she was even vaguely acquainted with. She prayed silently for guidance.

Bordan appeared suddenly out of the darkness, loping easily up the hill. He quickly reached the gateway and seeing the priestess spoke quickly, "They've moved off in a hurry straight down the roadway for a hundred yards or so, then their trail turns suddenly westward following no path or track. There remain three of them. They move swiftly and have a clear sense of purpose in their flight, neither pausing, nor straying from their course."

"Can you follow their trail, track them down?" The Castellian stepped in.

"Yes my lord, although I will need torches or some other source of light. If the moon is uncovered and they continue as they started – blundering quickly, it will be a simple job. If they head into the Dorren it will be somewhat harder but I believe my skill outweighs theirs by some margin." Eleanor detected an eagerness in the response, a thrill in the chase ahead.

"Very well. Priestess, I charge you to pursue these malefactors, you will not stray from this task until dawn breaks. At first light I will lead a company of horsemen and hunting dogs and come to your aid. Should you then still chase your quarry, you must choose whether to continue or to aid us in our pursuit. If they are part of some larger group, or some diversion or trick to weaken the town's defences we must place our faith in you to warn us." The Castellian's grim face was suddenly clearly visible as once more the clouds unveiled the moon. "You must warn us, whatever the cost!"

Several soldiers trotted to the gateway, soon joined by others. They stood ready but their gait was unsteady and Eleanor smelt ale on their breath. The Castellian gave a few brief commands and then indicated to Eleanor and the others to follow him, before leading them back into the castle. They quickly reached the main thoroughfare between the Great Hall and the Lord's accommodation.

"Priestess see to your warriors, I must speak with the Lord. Take what supplies and equipment you need from the stores." The Castellian knocked upon what remained of the door and entered into the lord's chamber.

"Bordan, Knut secure whatever you need from the store. Food and drink for a day. If there is Blessed water bring me some otherwise I will purify whatever you find."

Bordan shook his head, "No Priestess, they have gained the first mile, we should not gift them a second."

"Dogs, we should have dogs."

"Not tonight. Tomorrow the lord will come with dogs and many men. We must move quietly because we are few, so no dogs for us." Eleanor frowned, "Do not fear priestess I can follow them even at night."

Eleanor nodded and they left. She turned to Gaines and Freya. "Bordan has discovered the assassins trail. We leave directly. Freya have you the strength for a chase?"

"Aye Priestess, my blood is no longer tainted. I am in your debt. Although it is a price I intend for others to pay." She stood taller and prouder than she had earlier, her weapon and shield held ready, but Eleanor doubted she was yet completely clear of the poison.

"Gaines, you have some skill in the arcane arts, do you not?" He nodded and she continued, "I will need a signal, something that can be clearly seen over a distance in day or night, and draw reinforcements to our location."

"A simple conjuring trick might suffice, Priestess. Bright lights issuing forth from my hand into the sky, four or five, a hundred feet in the air." He motioned an under arm throwing action with his hand and looked briefly upwards.

"Can you add colour?"

"Aye lady, broadly."

"Then it will be green for success, white to indicate our location and blue should we uncover the enemy has deceived us with some trap or diversion."

"As you wish." He stopped. "Although, if our friends can see this, so to will our foes and it will draw them down upon us."

She stared at him, her face impassive.

"So be it." His response surprised her. He had a reputation as a fool, flighty and mischievous. He had earned his place upon the watch that night as a punishment. He had performed several bawdy tricks in a tavern house a few nights ago whilst drunk. She'd overheard some soldiers earlier recounting with much mirth, and obvious delight, the sudden unveiling of a serving maid's generous charms when her corset strings were magically snapped. It had, however, been one a prominent merchant that had levelled the charge before the Vicomte, unhappy at losing his trews. Gaines might yet have to pay a heavier price for his tomfoolery.

They waited a short while, until Bordan and Knut returned. There was a flurry of activity whilst flasks were replenished and food was stuffed into pouches and pockets. Knut expertly coiled a length of rope before slipping it over his head and shoulder. Bordan handed them each a wooden torch and kept a shuttered lantern for himself. He lit a long, slow burning, flaxen cord and tucked it into his belt. Then he pulled out two sunsticks, a simple magical device about a foot long, that when struck gave off bright light for several hours and handed one to Eleanor. "Do not set flame to the torches unless I tell you to do so. We move by whatever light the moon grants us. The lantern I will keep. The sunsticks are for battle, strike it only if we are engaged hand to hand. Light in the dark makes you a target."

The door to the Vicomte's chamber was dragged open and the Castellian strode out. "Ready?" he asked.

"Yes my lord," replied Eleanor, before she continued, "Gaines will send a signal of bright lights into the sky, many fathoms high. If we have been successful it will be green, if there is some greater enemy threat it will be blue. If we chase still, then it will be white. We will do so each hour after dawn until you reach us."

The Vicomte appeared in the doorway. Unusually he was not wearing armour, instead wearing a fine woollen tunic, with finely embroidered edgings. His face was flushed and contorted.

"You failed me," he growled, "you allowed an enemy entry into my castle and let them attack my wife!" His body shook and he began to shout, "You should all be dead, you bodies lying slain at her feet as you fell protecting her!" He paused for a moment, "Why are you not dead whilst those who wrong me still live?"

"My lord, forgive us, but I swear, by Menauras's light, there was nothing we could do …" Eleanor mumbled in reply, her face cast down. She was rattled, the Vicomte's words reflected her own sense of failure and guilt.

The Vicomte was not a tall man by Ammand standards, but he seemed to tower over Eleanor. His fists were clenched and his body shook with anger.

"Lord," began Gaines, "what you say is true, but each of us would have given our lives to protect you, your wife and the defenders of this castle. But that was not to be our fate." He spoke confidently and clearly, "Your wife yet lives and will soon bear you an heir."

It seemed to Eleanor that the Vicomte's face lightened at those words. His stance eased and he unclenched his fists.

Gaines continued, "We stand before you now, ready, awaiting only your word, to hunt down the enemy, to act as your hand. We will avenge you!"

Eleanor marvelled at his words, considered their import and felt her shame lessen and her purpose harden. Gaines' speech had similarly affected the lord, too.

"You speak well, now is the time for vengeance. I charge you to pursue justice in my name. Let no man hinder you, no door be held closed that my order can move. Any who stand against you, stand against me, and they shall answer to us both! Show no mercy, stay not your hands. Bring my enemies before me or bring me their corpses!"

Eleanor bowed, "It shall be so! I swear it!"

She turned to leave, as did her companions.

"Wait!" The Vicomte ordered before he fumbled a moment at his belt, ripping a purse from it. He threw it to Eleanor. "My wife lives and I am grateful."

Eleanor grabbed the pouch and bowed once more. The Vicomte turned back and entered the building. She shook the purse open and spilled the coins into her hand. Bordan and Gaines crowded round, both smiled broadly at the sight of a fistful of silver coins. She slid the coins back and slipped the purse into her tunic.

The Castellian marched with Eleanor. "I must go no and see to our remaining guests," he spoke with disdain, "and let them know that they will be staying the night with us." They reached the gateway. The Castellian issued an order to the guards there, "No one enters the castle, there will be no exceptions unless I or the Vicomte order it. Nobody leaves. Violate this order and I'll flog you till the bones show myself!" He turned his attention back to Eleanor and her companions, "May the Gods speed you and watch over you. Go now, find our enemies and destroy them!"


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2 -** **Tracked**

They moved down the roadway quickly, Bordan in the lead. The road led downhill, fairly steeply, away from the large knoll the castle had been built upon. It soon forked before reaching the junction of the ancient Alway road and the lane that bounded the western fields. The western fields lay fallow this year and were full of meadow grass and flowers awaiting cutting for use as winter feed. To Eleanor's left, beyond these fields were the Five Commons, where the townsfolk were free to graze their animals. She could hear snatches of music and laughter, when the wind allowed. Lights had been strung between trees and several large bright fires built. She watched as a circle of people danced around one. The fayre was in full swing and she smiled briefly before the grim realities of her task reasserted control of her mind.

The group rushed over the Alway road and kept to the western lane. They hustled along the edge of a field and stopped just shy of its southern boundary. Eleanor knew the lane continued south west past several more fields until it reached the Dorren stream, where it turned more southerly and ran down to the shore. It was the most direct route to the tidal mill and was the route their quarry would have taken up to the castle earlier that night.

"We leave the road here." Bordan spoke quietly. Eleanor could see a muddy scrape in the grass in the pale moonlight. The ground beyond the road was slightly higher and one of the fugitives had slipped stepping up. "I will lead," Bordan continued. "Do not close with me, stay an easy stone's throw back. You," he pointed to Eleanor and Gaines, "stay further back still. Your mail rings out news of our passage."

The priestess was suddenly self-conscious and embarrassed. She was supposed to lead but the doubt in her mind was growing. She knew little of battle, less than the others certainly, and nothing of tracking or hunting.

Could she kill? Bludgeon a man to death with her mace?

"Keep a sharp eye." Bordan's words cut through Eleanor's thoughts and snapped her back to reality. "If they are still here they will try to take us unaware, but I expect they will be in the Dorren already. We stop when we reach the stream."

The Dorren was a huge expanse of wilderness that surrounded Hannon. It was a mixture of limestone hills flecked with moorland, gorse and scrub trees. Good soil and grazing grass were found in only small pockets, whilst fast streams and gorges cut through it making travelling any distance difficult and time consuming. Caves littered hillsides and groups of orcs and goblins and worse lived within it. There was only one road, the main highway to Alway, and following any path or track was an invitation to be attacked by those that had made them. The Dorren Hill rose up from just beyond the scrubland they were about to cross, its rise marked by a swift, deep stream. There was a footbridge lower down its course and several other fording places. If they were stoutly defended then they would have to pay a high price for passage.

Bordan set out swiftly, stooping and keeping low. Freya and Knut waited and then followed, with Knut keeping to the north of Bordan's path. Gaines leapt up onto the bank and held out his hand to the priestess. She took it and stepped up off the road.

"If we are attacked, stay close by me. We lock our shields and stand as one."

Eleanor nodded and they moved off slightly north of west, with the town to their backs. They judged their pace from Freya who was closest, and Knut who was just barley visible. Bordan must have been moving slower as the pace dropped quickly to that of a slow walk. Eleanor became very aware of every clink and ring her armour made, whilst praying fervently to Menauras that it be silent and still.

They had gone no more than a few hundred paces when Freya motioned for them to halt. Gaines dropped down onto his haunches and Eleanor did the same. They crouched by a small puddle, a reminder of the recent rain, where two muddy footprints betrayed the passage of a large man.

After perhaps a minute they moved off again, this time even more slowly. However Eleanor and Gaines had not taken more than twenty steps before she saw the others crouched beside some bushes that had grown around two large trees. As quietly as they could they moved to join them.

"What's wrong?" Eleanor whispered. "Have you lost the trail?"

"Hardly," Bordan replied disdainfully, "they leave a track a drunken Ammand could follow."

Eleanor's faced flushed at the rebuke.

"The trail leads to a copse, beyond," he pointed westward, "the place where those courting in secret sometimes meet." Eleanor had walked past it several times, and aware of its reputation had avoided entering lest she stumble upon an embarrassed couple. It was not large, perhaps two dozen trees, with bushes aplenty.

"Our quarry runs straight, they step in every puddle, and trample each tuft of grass and make a line plumb for the copse. I believe they wait for us there in ambush, expecting us to be too eager in the chase." He paused, waiting for his words to sink in. "We should make them regret their foolishness."

There was silence for a moment. Bordan then continued, "We either attempt to sneak up on them – but with the moonlight and these two," he nodded towards Gaines and Eleanor, "I believe that all we will get for our trouble is a volley of arrows."

Eleanor felt insulted again. "What then?" she mumbled.

"We circle round behind them and enter the copse not from the west or south but from the north east and surprise them!"

Freya smiled and Knut nodded. Eleanor realised the decision had been made.

"We move fast now. The wind will shield us from their ears. We stop before the copse, ready ourselves and then we charge! Understood?" There were nods, and then they were off.

Bordan set a brisk pace. Eleanor bounded along with the others, up a gentle slope, darting from bush to bush and tree to tree, until they reached an earthen bank, the remnant of an ancient defence that ran across the scrublands. It had been abandoned to nature centuries before, and was now no more than a grassy bank half a man's height. But it gave them with a measure of cover, and as it ran east west, it marked as good a point as any to turn and outflank their enemy. They followed its course until they could hear the stream clearly.

They stopped briefly. Eleanor breathed rapidly, but readied herself. The copse was now but a bowshot south of her.

Bordan leapt up the bank and ran down the other side, sprinting forward. The others followed fanning out, Knut on the left flank, Freya on the right, Gaines beside her. Her heart pounded and she gulped down air as she ran. Then, almost as they were upon the trees, great guttural shouts rang out as the pace quickened and the charge hit home.

She joined in, screaming out the cry, "Menauras aid me now!" as loudly as she could, and more fervently than she had ever had cause to before. She crashed into the copse, breaking through a bush, its twigs and branches parting easily before her. She ran on, shield held steady, mace raised high, screaming, past trees and logs until she stood in the centre of the copse and stopped.

Lying in the centre of the copse, beside two large logs were the bodies of three mill delivery men.

The priestess stood there panting loudly, her ears ringing. Knut joined her. "Hmph", he snorted, "rest easy priestess, they are no threat now."

Eleanor lowered her arm but felt anger and frustration rising within her. She sat down on a log, dropped her mace and unstrapped her shield. A maelstrom of emotions - fear, anger, elation, dread – fought for control of her mind. The heightened sense of mortality and drive to fight subsided quickly and she felt her eyes well with tears, unbidden and uncontrollable. Her whole body was shaking. She wept as her mind desperately sought some haven in the storm. Her failure to protect the castle, her lack of stealth and poor tactical grasp and now her breakdown at lack of a fight prayed at her mind.

She barely registered a shouted warning, and only when Gaines knelt by her and took a hand in hid did she look up or around. He started singing, quietly and without fanfare.

"When all is dark about

Stay a while

And do not doubt

That you will note

A star or ray of light

To guide your way

Out of the night."

His voice was strangely compelling and his words soothed her thoughts. She grasped the sun symbol around her neck and found her nerves steadied and her tears stopped. She smiled and felt calmer, stronger and at ease. She quickly wiped her face and retrieved her weapon and shield.

Bordan, Freya and Knut stood away by the edge of the copse nearest the castle. She stood and with Gaines went to join them.

"Priestess." Knut said respectfully as she arrived. It seemed to Eleanor that Freya would not look directly at her.

"It seems they intended for us to spring this trap in our haste." Bordan pointed to length of twine run across a vague path entering the copse.

Eleanor stepped forward to look more closely but Knut whipped out his arm and barred her way, "Careful, milady."

Bordan motioned for them all to step back and then threw a wooden stave upon the line. There was a crash as a heavy log, as broad as a man's forearm, and a fathom in length, swung down from the branches above them and then swayed slowly back and forth before coming to a rest at knee height above the ground. Sharpened sticks had been placed in rows, both front and back of the log, sticking out like giant barbs. Eleanor shuddered at the thought of what might have been.

Gaines placed one hand upon Bordan's shoulder and grasped his arm with the other. Knut slapped Bordan with a huge hand, knocking him sideways.

"Bordan, I am, and always will be, eternally grateful for your skill and deeds this night. I owe you a great debt." Eleanor spoke softly. Bordan nodded, and it seemed to Eleanor felt uncomfortable with the attention being given him by his companions. There was a period of silence which became more uncomfortable with each passing moment.

"I must see to the dead, there are rites I must perform." Eleanor broke the silence. "I would have light, Bordan, if you will." All except Freya moved towards the bodies. "Set the lantern upon this log."

Bordan swiftly produced the lantern and lit it. A soft pool of light illuminated the three dead men. One, Erik, Eleanor thought had his throat slit and sat back staring lifelessly against a tree. Karl partially lay on top of Otto, a dagger in his side. Knut put his foot against Karl's body and pushed him over and off Otto. A leather purse fell on the ground next to his body. The priestess closed Erik's eyes, placed a hand upon his forehead and began to recite a prayer to Menauras.

Freya called out, "We should leave the murderous filth to rot! They do not warrant such honour!"

Eleanor ignored her and moved on to Karl, before a gasp from Knut distracted her.

"Look – gold coins, a handful. The fools killed each other for it!" He tipped shiny golden coins into his huge palm, as Bordan and Gaines crowded round to gawp. Even Freya walked over.

Eleanor didn't look, something just didn't feel right. The nagging doubt and confusion she'd felt earlier wouldn't go away. It just didn't make sense. Why would deliverymen and a miller's assistant try to kill Lady Ellouise? She brushed some dried blood off Karl's face. His visage was contorted in fear and pain. She placed her hand again upon his temple and began to pray once more.

Would they kill for money? The priestess barely knew them. She thought they were a little rough around the edges, but murderers? Were they really cold blooded killers capable of walking into a castle compound, evading watchful guards, making an assassination attempt and then luring pursuers into a trap?

She turned then to Otto. His throat had been slashed and Karl's dagger stuck out of his chest. What a waste - killing each other over some coin, albeit that each share was worth many years of pay. But it was a share they could never use without notice of its splendour and without questioning about its source. She stopped, suddenly, mid prayer.

"By Menauras's light!" she exclaimed. The others turned and looked at her in surprise. "These are not the men we seek! They were not at the castle. Our enemy is still at large!"

There was an uncomfortable silence. Then Freya spoke, "Priestess, we all know them, by sight at least. These are the men we seek."

"No we have been deceived." Eleanor looked up at her companions, looking from one to the next. "How long has it been since they were in the castle? A quarter of one hour before we left in pursuit, no more, another quarter hour for us to make our passage here."

"Aye, lady, about that," Knut answered.

"Look, the blood, there, is largely dry. Feel the skin - it is cool to the touch. They have been dead an hour at least, and yet by my reckoning cannot have arrived here, set their trap and fallen out and set upon each other in less than a quarter of that time." Eleanor stood, waiting a response, her words pleading.

Freya, remained impassive, Knut looked thoughtful, whilst Gaines watched the others. Bordan, however, moved to the bodies and looked more closely.

"But we saw them, I helped them – we know they were there. You must be mistaken," Knut challenged.

Bordan picked up the lantern and began to scour the ground.

"I fear our enemy is more fearsome than we believed. We look not for men but for shifters!" Eleanor spoke of creatures able to adopt the likeness of others. They were feared and hated, frequently killed on discovery or driven out by scared and distrustful folk. "Knut, you say you helped them but they were strong and used to pulling that cart. We've seen them move sacks of flour all day. Yet when we saw them they were struggling, out of breath and straining from the exertion."

Bordan moved away from the bodies and moved more widely around the copse, pausing and studying the ground.

"Freya, you said the snakes we fought were not natural beasts. Where would these men have obtained such rare and expensive creatures, and for what purpose? I'll warrant that there is some greater scheme at play here than some mad gamble by a journeyman and two labourers."

Eleanor's speech was met with silence. She waited with growing impatience and frustration. The burbling of the Dorren stream nearby seemed to grow louder and louder. She could finally take no more, "Gaines, what say you? What do you know of such creatures?"

Gaines waited before finally speaking, "No more than the legends and tales tell."

"Bordan!" Eleanor's frustration turned to anger, as she almost spat out his name.

"A moment!" he shot back.

Eleanor bit her lip and was silent. The others avoided her gaze, so she went and sat back against a tree, her mind confused as she sought answers and her spirit dampened at her companions' denial.

"She is right." Bordan said simply. "We have trampled the ground and they were careful, but there are signs others were here."

"Shifters?" Eleanor called out suddenly hopeful.

"That I cannot say. They wear boots and walk like men. There were two others here at least, perhaps three. There are tracks in and out – I cannot make sense of everything. But you are right, these men," he pointed to the corpses, "were not at the castle."

"Can you follow them?"

"Remain here and I will try, they cannot hide their footsteps for ever."

"Go, we will wait for you, but do not stray far in case they wait in ambush still." Eleanor felt emboldened and took control of the warriors again. "Freya, you have the best eyes, watch after Bordan but do not leave the copse. Knut watch over the Dorren hill. Gaines I would seek your counsel."

She watched as they all moved quickly to their tasks. A feeling of pride swelled within her.

"What wisdom I have is yours my lady," said Gaines simply.

"I have need of your cunning. What think you of our enemy?"

Gaines was thoughtful for a moment before he began his answer. "The attack has been long in the planning, although its full sense eludes me still. The infiltration was smartly done – and I cannot answer why I felt such a sense of imminent danger at the time – nor understand how their plan came partly undone. By rights they should have been well clear before we had even a hint of any attack. It is a miracle that we detected them and saved the Lady's life."

"True," added Eleanor, before adding, "thanks be to Menauras!"

"But even so our enemy was prepared. They laid a trail and a trap, one that many would have sprung. The attempt to bury their crime with these poor fellows was perhaps a little crude, and yet, but for your insight, and our speed they would have succeeded. Yet I cannot escape the feeling I miss something still." He was silent for a while. "Should we catch up with them it will be a hard fight. They will not yield willingly – we will show them no mercy and they know it. And they were no novices attempting such an assault – I fear we will need all of your God's indulgences this night."

Eleanor carefully considered Gaines' words as they both stood there in silence. Gaines handed Eleanor the pouch and the gold coins and once more Eleanor tucked the money safely away.

"He returns," Freya called, snapping Eleanor out of her thoughts.

The priestess walked to the southern edge of the copse and watched as a dark shape approached at a trot.

"I have it!" Bordan proclaimed. "They were careful for a good distance, but they cannot move quickly and hide their tracks, and they moved more normally after that, a trail I can follow for now at least. You were right we should have brought dogs but I will do what I can."

"Then lead on!"

Bordan moved off again, heading south following an indistinct path that ran alongside the Dorren stream. Eleanor knew there was a small bridge across the stream, no more than some boards laid across two logs a little way ahead. It was the easiest route to the Dorren hill that rose up on her right. She and the rest of her watch stayed back from Bordan letting him work in peace. They moved more slowly now, and would see from time to time a brief halo of light as Bordan checked the ground more closely. The wind felt stronger and it was cooler, although the priestess wondered if that was simply because they were no longer sheltered in the copse.

They passed single trees and bushes, conscious all the while that hostile eyes might be watching them from the hillside, or in the narrow, wooded, channel of the stream. Bordan neared the bridge and they halted, before he motioned for them to join him.

Once grouped together he spoke quietly, "We cross rapidly. Knut first, then Freya and then you priestess. Gain the first piece of cover or defensible ground you reach on the other side. Gaines and I remain here until you cross and support with bow and magic. We will join you quickly should our passage be uncontested."

The crossing was a blur to Eleanor. She remembered following Freya and almost slipping off the crude bridge as she ran across. She scrambled up a bank and stood hard against a tree trunk wedging her shield against it as she tried to minimise her exposure to attack. She was vaguely aware of Knut stood by the bridge and Freya to her left, knelt behind a bush overlooking a pathway. Then Gaines and Bordan were across and time seemed to flow normally again.

They waited watching carefully, although the priestess could barely see anything. Some moonlight reached them but the clouds frequently interrupted it and the tree canopy above them filtered out more. Bordan began the search for tracks again. Soon he was using the lantern and Eleanor realised that they had not moved in a while and began to feel apprehensive.

She ceased watching for ambush and turned to look at Bordan. He was stooped over looking at the ground a little way over the bridge where the path started to rise sharply above the stream. Then suddenly he slid down the bank and disappeared from her view into the channel. She realised she was counting heartbeats when she reached eleven, but it was twenty-five before she saw his head reappear. When he emerged fully she saw he was grasping a sack in one hand. He motioned for Eleanor to join him.

"What have you found?" she asked.

"Clothes. The aprons and tunics worn in the attack at the castle, cast into the stream." He opened the sack and drew out a flour dusted apron.

"Where now?"

"Back across the bridge. I allowed myself to be misled again. I believed they would head into the Dorren to evade us but I was wrong. I think one track only leads this way and that those we seek were careful with their trail here, seeking to throw us off their route. They head back into town."

"But why? They must know we would track them?"

"I do not know priestess, but we know not what they look like if they are indeed shifters, and now we do not know what they wear. We seek a virgin in a whorehouse."

"Hmph!" snorted Eleanor. "Well lead on. We have their clothing. We will make use of that. Find their entry point to the town and all we need then is a dog!"

Bordan brightened and then ran back over the bridge.

Eleanor ordered the others to follow and tossed the sack to Gaines.

They were soon following Bordan east towards the western road, and not long after that they found him stood at the junction of two fields beside the road. He pointed first to the ground at the boundary of the field. It was a small grassy bank that ran south easterly and led towards the commons, where the fayre was now clearly visible. "They waited here a while," he said simply. Then he pointed north easterly, up the road. "That's where their track left the road earlier. These shit eating bastard sons of an orc were lain up here watching us! They were laughing at us as we fell into their trap!"

Freya muttered an oath under her breath.

There was silence a while, and Eleanor's mind raced. She knew there was something hidden, a thought, an idea that if only she could reach it would make sense of it all. Suddenly it all made sense. "We must hurry! They plan another attack!" She stood up and began to run along the bank, rapidly followed by the others. "This whole chase, their actions were intended for one purpose - to delay us and prevent us from chasing them closely," she called out. "They could easily have slipped into town and vanished, we would have been chasing dead men. Instead they lead us into a trap, attempt to trick us with corpses. Yet they had time to lay and watch us follow them?" She paused. "They sought only to delay and confuse us, to distract us! Any other fugitive in their place would have run, and put time and distance between us. But these men do not fear us! We must set ourselves now for battle and hope we arrive in time."

They raced to the edge of the commons. Across the other side of the open ground, spread amongst a number of trees, were the wagons and caravans of the fayre.

"Be watchful!" the priestess implored, although she knew not what they should look for.

Bordan again sought signs of passage on the ground. He looked up and nodded. "They headed for the fayre, but they passed here long enough ago to have cleared the town by a goodly distance if they so choose."

"Take heart though, for I hear no sound of alarm or distress. We may yet be able to intercept them and make them pay for making fools of us so."


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3 - Heretics

Eleanor stepped into the light of the fayre. Candle lamps hung from twine run between trees, crisscrossing the eastern edge of the common. A large pyre burned brightly a little to her right where a few small children still cavorted despite an absence of music. She felt out of place, stepping forward shield held high, weapon in hand. She let her eyes accustom to the dim light and scanned the faces and stances of the townsfolk nearby. She sought desperately some insight, a hint of unease, a sign of fear or readiness for battle. Yet all she saw were happy people, celebrating.

She relaxed her stance and moved forward, mingling with the crowd. To her left she could see Knut, head and shoulders taller than all around him doing the same.

There was a sudden stir ahead of her. Beneath the canopy of a large tree an old man stood up to speak. He had short grey hair and a long full beard. His face was round and it seemed to Eleanor crossed with laughter lines. He smiled and called out, drawing a crowd around him with practiced ease. He wore a light blue cloak pinned with an ivory clasp at the neck over a long tunic of golden yellow and held a tall staff in his right hand.

With a simple flourish of one hand, he produced several leather pouches. "An indulgence good folk, if you please, a few coppers for an old man. Tarry a while with me this Autumn Eve for I have such a tale to tell! I'll tell of Gods and Daemons, of betrayal and lies!" He handed the pouches out and started his tale.

Eleanor smiled but turned away, seeking out her quarry once more.

"At the dawn of everything the Daemons emerged from the elemental chaos. Single minded elemental powers these beings were unfocused and without vision. Eons passed - little changed - great elemental powers rose and fell. Out of these struggles came great alliances - and from one such alliance came the Offspring - part Fire, part Earth, part Air, part Water."

Eleanor reached the pyre and walked slowly around it. Some of the children called out to her, recognising her from the temple. She smiled back but moved on, leaving them to their games.

"The Offspring was created strong - and grew stronger. Greater than the sum of his parts his powers increased. He was capable of moulding the elements. Controlling them he forged the first firmament - a place of wonder and awe. Shielded from the elemental chaos, bound by laws, the creation flourished."

Eleanor's attention switched suddenly back to the bard. His words were clear in her mind although she had not intended to listen. She looked up at him to find he was looking directly at her, and it seemed as though he spoke to her alone.

"The Offspring was proud of his creation, yet he remained unfulfilled. Some of the Daemons resented his control - his power, others envied him. Others sought his secrets and allied with him. And thus the Children of the Offspring were created. The Offspring created further firmaments but none were as beautiful or perfect as the first. And with each new creation his power waned and the resentment of the Daemons grew."

She moved back towards the tree, staring at the bard as she moved closer. With each word he spoke her unease grew.

"The Offspring became angry at his waning strength. His very rage shook all of creation. His children fled and hid. The Daemons rose up and waged war against him, an eon of envy, hated and fear fuelling their assault. The Offspring fought back - slaying one mighty Daemon after another. But in the end they threw him down - however unable to destroy him, they bound him within his first creation and banished him for all time."

She pushed through the crowd, gently at first but then more roughly as she sought desperately to reach the old man. Someone shoved something towards her as she passed. She grabbed it from their grasp and tucked it away.

"The Children of the One were shamed by their fear. Rising from their hiding places they sought out the remaining Daemons and one by one cast them down, until none stood against them. But they did not release the Offspring - some were afraid, others too shameful, some were free, others craved power. Instead they worked together with great spirits securing the Offspring's prison further. Then these Gods crafted many great creations and tried to forget their father."

"Heresy!" she shouted loudly, bursting to the front of the crowd. "How dare you malign the Gods!" A fierce anger gripped her.

"No," he responded calmly, smiling at her, "just a simple tale. Besides, I am not the one you seek." He pointed behind her.

She was unable to resist turning. Instantly she focused on a couple walking arm in arm. A young man wore simple clothes, with a woman leaning on him, one hand around his waist, the other cradling her swollen belly. And there behind them, was a cloaked figure, hooded, stalking them.

Eleanor charged straight towards them, covering the ground easily, folk melting away in front of her, clearing her path. She saw the reflected flash of light as steel was drawn, and a dagger was raised poised to strike.

"By Menauras' light! To me! To me!" she shouted. She swung her mace, a brutally downward strike, catching the assassin's arm with a satisfying crunch. Her enemy cried out in agony and the blade he wielded fell to the ground.

Her momentum carried her past the attacker who reacted with surprising speed. There were shouts and screams, but Eleanor could only focus on her opponent. He wielded another curved blade in his undamaged left hand and slashed at her. She brought her shield across and parried the attack but was unbalanced and unsighted. She desperately gave ground as he closed on her, striking and jabbing quickly and surely. A sharp sting on her right arm told her he'd hit home with a blow she'd not even seen.

She back peddled faster, not seeking to fight back, concentrating only on keeping his blade away from her. But he slashed again and again, pushing her, herding her, getting closer and closer.

There was a sickening crunch and a look of surprise and pain was etched upon the man's face. Freya stood behind him, axe buried in his back. As he sank to his knees she pulled it clear and struck him again between shoulder and neck. He fell to the floor and she struck him again. Freya stood back and gave voice to a deep throated roar, a shout that reverberated around the common.

Eleanor tried to focus but she still seemed to be in a dream. She saw Freya turn away and beyond her Knut, Gaines and Bordan were trading blows with two other cloaked figures. As Eleanor moved to join them she watched as one deftly avoided a strike by Bordan, before stepping round him and striking him in the back with one blade whilst slashing at Knut with the other.

Bordan dropped to his knees and dropped his guard. Knut swung wildly but forced his opponent to concentrate his attacks upon him, blocking each stroke with his enormous shield.

Gaines faced the other figure, but he too, was easily pushed back. Freya's attack was easily side stepped as she charged in and another knife blow struck Bordan across the chest.

A slashing strike warded Eleanor away, before the figure struck at Freya, catching her leg. He stepped back from a blow aimed by Gaines and spun to face Eleanor once more. He turned into her blow. She had aimed at his shoulder but the spin caught her by surprise and her mace connected with his face. She felt the solid connection through her wounded arm and wondered that she still held her weapon. The man's lower jaw hung loosely, smashed below his face held on only by skin and tendon. His eyes registered surprise and his weapons fell to the ground. Eleanor looked on in horror at what she had just done. A solid thrust from Gaines, saw the tip of his sword emerge from assassin's chest and the priestess saw the light disappear instantly from the man's eyes.

Freya and Gaines rushed to Knut. Eleanor briefly noted that he, too, was bleeding from a cut to his head but she dropped to her knees besides Bordan. She dropped her weapon and grasped Menauras' symbol tightly in one hand, placing the other on Bordan's bloody chest. She rapidly recited the chant and prayer and was gratified to feel it answered. Her God's strength flowed through her more strongly than she had felt it before. A rush of warmth and strength coursed along her arm and she was rewarded when Bordan sucked in a deep breath.

Eleanor was vaguely aware of blows being exchanged nearby, the clash of steel on board and then the sounds of blows striking home.

Bordan's eyes opened. Eleanor smiled with relief. The priestess grasped Bordan's hand in hers and breathed out. She looked up and saw the others stood still, the last of their enemies lying at their feet. She noted all carried wounds, but they had been victorious!

They were quiet for a moment, panting, but watchful. They stared out seeking other threats. Eleanor watched as a small child stood nearby, screaming, was picked up by a man and carried away.

Knut called out a great cry of triumph, Freya joined him and then too Eleanor found herself calling out, "By the strength of Menauras!" overcome by a sense of exultation.

A dog barked and snarled somewhere in the distance and a horse cantered through knocking over a stall.

Bordan shifted slightly, "Thank you, priestess." He coughed and Eleanor noted there was fresh blood on his lips.

"Rest, Bordan. Stay still, you are still gravely wounded."

A shout went up, calling for guards, urgent and desperate.

Eleanor stood up and shouted loudly, "In the name of the Vicomte d'Hannon stand and be still. I, Eleanor de Fresnes, Priestess of Menauras, lead the watch. The town has been attacked but we have been victorious!"

Her call was met with silence.

Slowly figures began to emerge, and she saw faces looking out from behind trees, tents and stalls.

The cry went up for guards again, but she ignored it.

She walked over to the others.

"Bordan?" asked Gaines.

"Badly wounded, yet he will live," Eleanor responded. "Are any of you badly hurt?"

"We live," Knut replied.

"You all fought well," Eleanor said simply.

"As did you priestess!" Freya answered waiting a moment before continuing. "But you carry that shield like a frightened child!"

Eleanor stared at her for a moment.

Freya mimicked Eleanor cowering, holding her shield high and far away from her body, and Eleanor found herself laughing along with her companions.

The moment of levity quickly passed.

Gaines walked over to Bordan and spoke quietly with him, whilst Eleanor checked their wounds. All had cuts but thankfully they seemed neither to be deep nor a major hindrance.

Freya and Knut started to look over the bodies. The townsfolk avoided them and most seemed to be leaving.

The bodies of the fallen produced several pouches with more golden coin as well as a vial containing a pale blue liquid. Eleanor was handed the vial and looked at it suspiciously. She unstoppered it and inhaled gingerly. The sweet smell of honey and rosehip greeted her and she smiled, a balm for wounds, a lucky find!

Freya turned suddenly and looked toward the town. Eleanor heard a faint shout. Then, the shout was repeated, coming closer and closer.

Eleanor walked slowly towards the noise and then she heard it clearly, "Fire! Fire! Murder!"

The priestess was about to call the others to her when she noticed all save Bordan were already with her, faces grim, running towards the alarm. She shouted to Bordan, "Stay here, we will return directly!"

They rounded the pyre and saw an old man, looking frantic, bellowing loudly, "Fire!"

"Speak old man!" Eleanor ordered.

"Fire, in town," he panted, struggling for breath, "a crazy woman, a wizard, she blasts the town with fire."

"Where exactly?"

"Not far, down yonder road," he pointed off behind him, "where the roads meet. She targets the Reeve's house!"

Eleanor knew the place, she'd visited once, and knew the Reeve to speak to. "We will resolve this, old man."

They ran. The green quickly gave way to road, a field to their left and the market place and mercantile section of the town away over on their right. Their made their way quickly downhill along the road, townsfolk scattering at their approach. As they cleared some trees they saw the fire.

Ahead of them were three main buildings located around a crossroads. One, the furthest away was partially aflame, its thatched roof on fire. A crowd had gathered, blocking the road and obscuring their view. They seemed agitated and there were confused shouts and calls rising from them. Eleanor couldn't understand why they weren't tackling the fire.

"In the name of the Vicomte make way!" shouted Eleanor as they neared the group. Several people turned but the crowd remained.

"MOVE!" bellowed Knut, and suddenly the gathering parted.

Beyond the crowd stood four warriors standing in line abreast, spears held ready and round shields locked together, barring the way forward. Behind them in the middle of the roadways was a tall woman, with long dark hair, dressed in red flowing robes. The woman had her back to Eleanor facing the building and as the priestess closed upon the warriors she saw the woman raise a staff and fling three small balls of flame into the roof of the burning house, laughing as she did so.

Knut and Freya led the assault. Knut crashed into the two left most warriors, his warhammer slamming into one, his momentum knocking the other back several feet and sending him sprawling onto the ground. Freya leapt at the third, bringing her axe down mid leap cleaving deeply into the man's skull.

Eleanor ignored the last of the warriors, assuming Gaines would take care of him. She followed Knut and Freya who closed now on the red robed woman. The wizard waited until they were almost upon her and then slammed her staff into the ground. There was a deafening thunderclap and the air pushed outwards from the woman like a wave, crashing over them. It knocked the breath out of Eleanor. Her chest felt as though it had been struck by a hammer. Her ears rang and her eyes struggled to focus. Knut and Freya were stopped in their tracks.

Eleanor pushed on and struck out at the woman with her mace. The priestess felt she was attacking through water, her actions seemed so agonisingly slow. The wizard laughed manically and easily blocked the blow with her staff.

The next few moments seemed confusing to Eleanor. She was hazily aware that Gaines ran past her and the wizard, heading for the doorway of the burning building. The wizard stepped back slightly and spoke something she couldn't really hear whilst raising an arm. With an outstretched hand and finger she pointed in turn at Knut, Freya and Gaines, unleashing an arc of dazzling white light that reached from her hand and struck Eleanor's companions. Cries of pain came from all three.

Worse followed as two men emerged from the gloom behind a building on her right, loosing arrows, one striking Knut in the shoulder, the other flew she knew not where.

Eleanor's senses were recovering though, her vision cleared and some hearing returned. She attacked again and again. She failed to strike home but she pushed the woman backwards, rapidly stepping away from the priestess, fending off the attacks with her staff.

Smoke swirled all around, stinging her eyes. The air smelt of burning wood and grass. Eleanor caught sight of Gaines entering the building and saw burning thatch was dropping inside already. She realised there must still be someone inside and felt a sudden hatred for the woman in front of her. The priestess feinted, leading with her shield before turning and striking backhandedly at the wizard's now unprotected left side and struck her a glancing blow to the chest. The smile and laughter disappeared instantly from the woman's face but the wizard struck back with her staff catching Eleanor's shin.

She'd briefly glimpsed Knut and Freya as she turned. They were now engaged behind the priestess exchanging blows with the newly emerged attackers. This battle she would fight alone.

Eleanor grimly fought on. She hit out and pushed forward and for a moment she looked upon the face of her opponent. The woman was maniacal, lost in the excess and exultant joy of destruction. Eleanor connected with a blow to the wizard's arm. For an instant the wizard's eyes widened with fear and Eleanor detected her sneering laugh seemed forced. They exchanged blows and strikes and to Eleanor's surprise she realised that she had the measure of her enemy.

Her next strike missed but still she forced the wizard back, and then it hit Eleanor. She was actually going to have to kill this woman. For the first time she would need to take a life. The face of the man whose jaw she'd accidentally destroyed flashed into her mind. She struggled to control the horror she felt at the thought and she relented, pulling back from her onslaught.

The wizard needed no further invite and flung small balls of flame at Eleanor from her palm. The priestess countered two with her shield but was struck on the side of the neck by the third and yelped in pain as her flesh burned. Eleanor's survival instinct took over. Kill or be killed and she returned to the offensive driving the wizard backwards.

An arrow whipped past Eleanor and struck the wizard in her left side, its bloody head visible sticking out of the woman's back. "The chains will be broken!" the wizard cried. She turned and launched more balls of flame into the roof of the house.

Eleanor silently thanked Menauras that the arrow had missed her. She worried for Knut and Freya but pressed on with her attack. Her mace struck the wizard upon the shoulder and knocked her to the ground.

The wizard pushed herself up onto all fours, calling out, "You will all burn! The chains will be bro.."

Eleanor's mace struck the wizard on the back of her neck at the base of the skull. The woman slumped to the ground instantly, her body lifeless.

The priestess spun round and was surprised to see Knut and Freya still stood, and as she watched the last of their foe succumbed to a series of heavy blows.

"Priestess!"

Eleanor turned to the sound of the call and saw Bordan stood unsteadily some yards away, bow in hand.

A sudden sense of relief and understanding swept over her.

"Bordan!" she called back. "Once more I thank you." She moved towards him.

"Where is Gaines?" Bordan asked.

Eleanor whipped round. The building was burning brightly. The whole of the roof at the front was on fire. The section above the doorway gave way as she watched and she realised with horror that the interior was already ablaze.

She ran forward but could not reach the door the heat was so intense. She turned away and ran to her right trying to get to the buildings rear. Knut was ahead of her and easily vaulted a wooden fence behind the house and disappeared from view. Eleanor reached the fence placed her right foot upon a post and started to climb. Almost at once she slipped back down, her injured leg unable to take her weight.

She switched to her other leg and pulled herself up, before falling over onto the other side. The fire provided some measure of light, but the smoke here was thick and acrid causing tears to well in her eyes and she coughed repeatedly. Knut was advancing but there seemed to be another figure braced against the house further back.

Eleanor stumbled after him. As Knut closed on it the figure stood up and swung an axe at him forcing Knut backwards.

A door was flung open and something covered in a blanket or cloak fell or was thrown out, followed by Gaines, doubled up and coughing.

Knut was fought back but before he could recover his ground his enemy turned and struck at the blanketed bundle, "The chains will be broken!"

Knut's hammer crushed the man's skull and he toppled to the ground.

Eleanor scrambled hurriedly over. Gaines gasped desperately for breath. The intense heat of the fire blazed through the open doorway, stinging Eleanor's face. Knut dragged the dead man away, and underneath him, covered in a blanket was a limp body.

Eleanor pulled back the blanket and cried out in despair. It was the body of a woman, neck almost severed from the single blow Knut had been unable to prevent. The priestess kneeled and gasping Menauras' symbol she called out a prayer of healing. It was too late and she knew it. There was no spark of life left to be reignited, and her prayer went unanswered.

More of the roof fell in and a gout of flame flared out of the doorway above the priestess's head. She recoiled and scrambled backwards, tears streaming down her face. Knut stepped forward and lifted the woman's body up and carried her away from the house. The blanket tore as he moved her, trapped by something lying on the ground. Eleanor reached over and saw a small girl, no more than three or four summers, curled up, as if asleep. She reached out to her and at once felt the strength of Menauras flow through her arm and hand. The child gasped and coughed as Eleanor pulled the girl into her arms and turned away from the house. She shrugged off the shield as she crawled away from the flames.

Knut broke down a section of the fence and Eleanor followed him through onto the road. Gaines was retching, his face smoke blackened, his hair singed in places. Tears streaked down his cheek. Eleanor, reached out and rested her hand on his shoulder. Her looked at her briefly and smiled wanly when he noticed the child coughing in the priestess' arms.

Freya sat on the road, near the fallen bodies of their foes, with Bordan stood beside her. She had one hand clasped firmly to her side, blood seeping between her fingers. She stood up, slowly and awkwardly, a grimace on her face, "Victory?" she asked.

"At great cost," Knut responded, "the child lives, yet the mother does not."

Eleanor turned and looked the body borne by Knut, and then noticed for the first time, with a deepening horror that the woman had been heavily pregnant. The child clinging to her arms, opened her eyes, coughed again and then began to scream.


End file.
